


By Any Other Name

by Donotquestionme



Series: Strange Magic Series [2]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5568787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Donotquestionme/pseuds/Donotquestionme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bog and Marianne discuss names.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Any Other Name

“Alright, my turn to ask something.” Bog said.

Marianne and Bog lay side by side in Bog’s bed, enjoying the closeness and quiet of the late night hours in the Dark Forest castle. They had taken to taking turns asking each other questions. There was so much both of them didn’t know about the other and their kingdoms. The questions ranged anywhere from politics to favorite colors.

“Are fairies born with their wings or do them come later?” Bog asked.

“Later.” Marianne answered.  “When we reach puberty, we form chrysalis…es… around ourselves for a few weeks and when we come out, ta-dah! Wings.”

“Ok now you’re messing with me.” Bog said, incredulously.

“It’s the truth.” Marianne said.

“You mean to tell me that one day, when you were young you just…built a cocoon around yourself and slept for weeks at a time, then came out with a brand new set of wings that just appeared out of nowhere?” Bog said.

“Chrysalis.” Marianne corrected. “Not cocoon. They’re different. Why? How did you get _your_ wings?”

“I…uh…got them in one of my last…molts.” Bog said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Molts?” Marianne asked. “You molt?”

Bog made an uncomfortable face. “No…well….not anymore. It’s a growing thing, you know? I might have one or two left in me but I’m done growing for the most part.”

“I never knew goblins molted. “ Marianne said.

“They…don’t…” Bog said softly.

Marianne recognized that tone of voice. Bog tended to get withdrawn whenever they touched on the subject of how different he was from other goblins. Marianne could kick herself for not thinking of that before she spoke.

“So…”she said, trying to shift the discussion back on track. “Your wings grew under the skin until one day you just…” she made a breaking motion with her hands. “…and you had wings?”

“More or less.” Bog said.

“In the Fairy Kingdom, everyone gets a big party once they get their wings. Did they do anything like that for you?” Marianne asked.

“No…” Bog said. “Actually, the whole thing was rather…unpleasant, really. Considering I didn’t know it was coming.”

“Wait…didn’t…you didn’t know you were going to get wings?!”Marianne was flabbergasted.

“Not in the slightest. My mother had decided not to inform me about that particular part of my father’s physiology.” Bog’s face pulled down into an annoyed grimace.

“Why on Earth not?!” Marianne asked, still astounded. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to have something that drastic happen completely without warning. She’d spent her whole childhood dreaming about and preparing for getting her wings and even so it had been frightening and new. The idea of it just happening one day and her being completely unprepared…it was staggering.

“She didn’t know if I would get them. I’d taken after my father in everything else, but there was no way to know I’d take after him in that regard.”  Bog sneered then said “Her exact words were ‘You never asked.’” It was clear this was something Bog was still somewhat sore about.

“That does kinda sound like her I guess…”Marianne said. “Still…I can’t imagine. That must have been really terrifying.”

Bog’s scowl softened into a look of bashful surprise.

“Oh…well…yes, I suppose.” He said.  “I was fine, though. I figured it all out eventually. Learned how to fly from the dragonflies.” He shrugged, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “You know.”

Marianne smirked. Bog would always play down any hardships he’d faced growing up. He despised being pitied. It made him seem weak, or so he said. He always got so flustered when she showed real sympathy for him.

“Wait…” Marianne said, something he’d said just now sinking in. “You said your mother never told you that your father had wings. Did you not see them for yourself?”

“No.” Bog replied simply. “I never met him. He died before I was born.”

“I’m sorry.” Marianne said.

“What for?” said Bog. “I can’t miss someone I never knew.”

“Could I ask you something about him, or does it bother you to talk about him?” Marianne asked.

“Like I said, I never knew the man.” Bog said with a shrug. “How could it bother me?”

“What was his name? I’ve never heard you or your mother mention it.”

“I…I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“His name.” Marianne repeated. “What was he called?”

Bog’s forehead creased in confusion.  He turned to look toward Marianne.

“I don’t understand.” He said. “You know that he was my father, so you must know he was the King before I was.”

“Yes. I know he was king.” Marianne said. “What was his name?”

“You just…is this some kind of trick?” Bog said, himself propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re talking in circles. You say you know what he was called then you ask me for it again. He was the King before I was.” Bog repeated.

Marianne sat up, beginning to grow frustrated. “I don’t mean his _title.”_ she said. “His _name._ Do you not know your own father’s name?”

“ _Of course I do_!” Bog said, also growing frustrated. “What I don’t understand is how you _don’_ t.  You’ve asked me what he was called and I’ve told you. You’ve been saying it yourself! What is it you don’t understand?   _He was The Bog King before I was_.” He enunciated every word of the last sentence.

Marianne blinked as the pieces fell into place in her mind.

“He…he was ‘Bog King’ before you were?” She asked, bewildered.

“Yes!” Bog cried, sitting up. “That’s what I’ve been saying! You knew that already! Why ask?”

“But…then you’re name isn’t really ‘Bog’?” Marianne asked.

Bog made a frustrated noise. “Of course it is!” He groaned. “Marianne, you’re not making any sense!”

“It’s not your name, though.” Marianne pressed. “It’s…it’s just your title?”

“Name, title, what I’m called, what’s the difference?” Bog said, exasperatedly. “I _am_ The Bog King.”

“You don’t have your own name, then?” Marianne asked in disbelief.

 “You _know_ my name!” Bog cried. He was practically yelling now. “I am ‘The Bog King’. ‘Bog’. ‘Boggy’ when you mean to annoy me. You’re talking nonsense!”

“But that’s just _what_ you are, not _who_ you are.” Marianne insisted. “’Bog King’ is a title. It’s a position. It’s not unique to you.”

“What I am, who I am. It’s all the same.” Bog said. “And I highly doubt you’re the only ‘Marianne’ in the whole world.” He sneered. “If anything, my name is much more unique to me. There can be only one Bog King at any time.  As long as I live, I am the only Bog King there is. Then, once I’m dead, there’ll be a new King after me and _he’ll_ be the only Bog King.”

“But what about before you became king?” Marianne asked incredulously, still finding the whole idea hard to swallow. “People couldn’t have just not called you anything for your whole childhood.”

“People called me a great many things. Young Prince, Highness, Lord.” He counted off on his fingers. “My mother called me ‘son’.”

Marianne was fumbling for words, struggling to both understand the concept Bog was explaining and to make him understand what she was explaining. How could you explain to someone what it was to have a name?

“But…but names are personal. They’re who you are beyond your title. Even if I weren’t a princess, I would still be myself. I would still be Marianne.” Marianne said.

“Would you?” Bog retorted. “You might be _a_ Marianne, like all the hundreds of other Mariannes in the world, but you would not be _Princess_ Marianne. You would not be _you._ If you were not Princess, it would mean you were not your father’s daughter, just as if I were not King, it would mean I was not my mother’s son.  If we were born to other parents we would not be ourselves. These selves that we are only exist because we were born to the parents we were.”

“Well, what about if someday you’re not King anymore? What would you be called then?” Marianne asked.

“I would be dead, and have little need for a name anymore.” Bog said, his tone caustic. “Save for perhaps ‘The Late, Former Bog King’.”

Marianne scowled. “You’re being unreasonable.” She huffed.

“ _I’m_ being unreasonable?” Bog exclaimed. “You’re the one talking nonsense! You’ve known my name for ages now but suddenly you’ve found some great problem with it?”

“Because ‘The Bog King” isn’t a person, it’s a title, a position, a thing!” Marianne cried.

Bog looked taken aback and hurt for a moment before his face dropped into a snarl. He stood abruptly from the bed and walked towards the window, turning away from her.

“Oh, Bog, come on!” Marianne groaned, exasperatedly. “I wasn’t calling you a—you know what I meant!”

“No I DON’T!”  Bog snapped, turning back around to face her. His face was a mixture of pain and rage. “You keep acting like I should understand but I just _don’t.”_

He turned back around.

“I don’t understand you sometimes.” He said, voice now soft.

Marianne felt the heat of her frustration and anger drain away.  Sometimes it was so easy to forget how different the worlds they were from were. And sometimes that was frightening. There was always the fear that something would come up that would be too different, too impossible for the other to understand, that they would not be able to overcome.

Marianne exhaled.

“I’m upset because…” she bit her lip, trying to come up with the words to best explain it. “Because I hate to think that you see yourself as nothing more than your status. That ‘The Bog King’ is all you are.”

Bog turned to face her again, slowly this time.

“It _is_ all I am.” He said. “I can’t be more…than myself.”

“It’s different than that it’s…” Marianne struggled for a moment. How did you explain a concept that was so ingrained in her society that it never needed to be discussed?

“Growing up, I knew everyone saw me as ‘The Princess’. I knew I was expected to someday become Queen and rule the Fairy Kingdom, but I also felt like there was another part of me that wasn’t just a princess. That, somehow, I had a hand in my own fate. You were raised literally not even being referred to as a specific person until you became King.  You never even had the illusion of choice.”

“But, illusion or not, you never truly had a choice.” Bog said. “You were and are the princess, separate name or no.”

Marianne tried to go about it from a different angle.

“Imagine…” she said. “That everything in the whole just disappeared. That it was just you. No kingdoms, no castles, no subjects, just you. You wouldn’t be King because there would be no Dark Forest left for you to be King of.  You’d still be someone, wouldn’t you?”

Bog pursed his lips, still trying to understand.

“I suppose…” he said. “But what would I be without my kingdom?”

“I guess…that’s the question I’m trying to ask you.”

That seemed to give Bog pause and there was a moment of silence as he considered it.

“You…” he said at last. “You call me ‘Bog’.  You, and some other fairies. My citizens do not. I thought it was just a shortening but…it isn’t, is it? It’s…what you thought I was called. My name besides my title?”

“Yes.” Marianne said.

Bog paused again.

“I think…in that world where I was not King…I might be ‘Bog’.” He then shifted slightly, as if a bit nervous. “If um…as long as you were there to call me that.”

Bog sat back down on the bed. He gave a small smile.

Marianne grinned. She could tell he still didn’t quite understand, but it made her happy to see him try. They still had a long way to go to understand each other and their cultures, but it was a step forward.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Expounding some of my own headcanons and hinting at some stuff to come. I noticed that none of the Goblin’s ever call Bog “Bog”. Even when Stuff shortens it, she shortens it to “B.K.”, still an abbreviation for his title. Only fairies(and whatever Plum is) seem to call him “Bog”. 
> 
> This fic has grown on me since writing it. I originally really disliked it but I got some nice reviews and I've come around to it.


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